It's so cold without you here
by SailorYue
Summary: In the script it is stated that Uriel used their sword to cut "Aziraphale"'s rope bindings. Its implied that it looks like they are going to stab him. So... this is that what if. (TEMPORARY CHARACTER DEATH. IT HAS A HAPPY ENDING I PROMISE)
1. Its so cold

There had been many things that tested Aziraphale's faith. God's decisions towards humanity of course being one of them, but he would always believe she had reasons for doing what she did. He wanted to ask questions, to ask 'why' but knew that he would never get a satisfactory answer. So he always held his tongue. His friend Crowley was always one to ask questions, and he loved that in a way they were the questions he wanted to ask. They still never got the answer however. Which was just as well. His faith was also tested during the week of the apocalypse that never was. But it was shaken mostly by his fellow angels, with how determined they were to foresee the destruction of the world. He didn't want to believe that it was what God had wanted. Still though, he stood determined. Still believing in God, that she truly wouldn't have wanted that, and managed to save everything. But the thing that tested the angel's faith the most was what was going to happen to him in the fall to winter following that. He would come close to doubting, but still retain a glimmer of hope. And that hope is what he would need to get the answer he would always want. God's plans are ineffable, even if they don't seem that way to begin with. And God loves a happy ending.

...

Aziraphale, currently in Crowley's body left to the main lobby of the central London gateway tower and looked around. There was no sign of Crowley, currently in his body, and wondered if his own execution was running long? He shrugged and headed towards the door, still not quite used to Crowley's long and lanky legs. He headed towards their usual rendezvous place, where they had agreed to meet after their predicted captures blew up in their respective head office's faces. He couldn't wait to tell Crowley how he had acted in his stead, and miracled Michael to get him a towel. He was certain the demon would get a kick out of that.

He waited at their usual bench in the center of St James' park, by the duck pond. He checked his watch for the tenth time that hour, watching the ribbons shift again. It had been nearly an hour since he left hell, and still no sign of Crowley. Had something gone wrong? His heart pounded with dread. He couldn't even call the demon as his mobile phone was in his own pocket. He couldn't even sense him on this plane of existence. Had heaven had something else planned for his punishment? They were so certain that the 'playing with fyre' had meant hellfire, which was why they had done the swap. Aziraphale fidgeted with Crowley's odd tie, wishing it was his own bow tie.

"Where the heaven or hell are you, my dear?" He asked out loud to no one in particular.

"**HE WON'T BE COMING**." An ominous voice behind him said with an odd echo. Aziraphale recognized the voice immediately and jumped up to see standing behind the bench was Death. His heart had all but stopped.

"You again?" He asked uncertainly.

"**YES**."

Aziraphale swallowed nervously. What had he meant when he said that? He dreaded the answer, but had to know. "Who... who won't be coming?"

"**YOU KNOW WHO I MEANT. YOUR DEMON COMPANION**." Death stood there almost unmoving, his cloak billowing from a nonexistent breeze.

Aziraphale felt the blood drain from his face. "Why? Where is he?" Even though he had a hunch, he needed confirmation. He wanted denial, that his hunch was WRONG. It HAD to be.

"**WHY ELSE WOULD I BE HERE, ANGEL**." It felt odd with another being calling him that. "**I HAD THOUGHT IT TO BE SPORTING TO ADVISE TO YOU WHAT HAD HAPPENED."**

The angel looked around and noticed that the park had become unusually quiet. Was just as well, no human could even see the fourth horseman unless it was their time. What had happened? What did he mean?

"Happened? What happened to Crowley?" His voice cracked.

Death waved a hand in front of them and Aziraphale saw a scene play out. He saw himself, or rather Crowley in his body, bound to a chair sitting next to a pillar of what he assumed was the hellfire. He watched as Uriel and Sandalphon drew out their heavenly swords, igniting the flames. Aziraphale frowned as to why they had decided to do that. Uriel walked over to the disguised demon who glowered calmly at the approaching angel. He had kept his composure in the face of danger, but he saw a glimmer in his own blue eyes. He knew Crowley for 6000 years, and could see so many different nuances and shifts. The dark angel went to cut the ropes bound around his wrists and that's when it happened. The sword went too far. Aziraphale felt his heart break as he saw the fear and pain light up his face and in an instant, he was gone.

"Crowley...!" He cried out hoarsely.

The scene played out further.

"Got a little carried away, Uriel?" Gabriel inched over to the now empty chair, eyeing the hellfire carefully.

"Was an accident. And the sword shouldn't have effected him." The angel put away their sword.

"Maybe he wasn't an angel?" Sandalphon asked helpfully from it's position.

Gabriel snapped his fingers. "Well then that explains it! He must have fallen! That's why he defied the Great plan! No real angel would do that!" There was such gloating in his purple eyes. It churned Aziraphale's stomach. He couldn't take it anymore and waved the scene away. He felt absolutely sick.

"Crowley is..."

"**YES**."

"No... " He wanted to cry. "Then take..."

Death held up a hand to cut him off. "**I DO NOT TAKE THOSE BEFORE THEIR TIME. DO NOT BOTHER TRYING TO ASK**."

Aziraphale closed his eyes, with an understanding nod.

"**GOOD DAY TO YOU, I SHALL TAKE MY LEAVE**."

The angel, if he was actually even an angel now, sat back down on the bench. What now? Crowley was gone. As was his corporation. He was effectively trapped in his best friend's body. And now... he looked down at his long slender fingers. Ones he had known quite intimately. Through the years of accidental touches, passing of drinks or handing him his books. Crowley had been there for so long. Aziraphale had no idea what he would do without him. He lost track of the time, staring at the ducks swimming in the pond, remembering fondly of how the demon would accidentally drown ducks before miracling them back. He realized quickly that the sun was setting, and it probably would not be the best idea to just sit uselessly in the park past dark. He certainly no longer had an appetite, so he headed towards Mayfair.

Aziraphale didn't really have a chance to look over the flat the night before, they had been so worried about the prophecy they had brainstormed all night since arriving from Tadfield. He would take care of the place now, he supposed. It wouldn't do well to just let the place go to ruin. From what he saw the apartment was sparse, but it had objects within the 'angel' had figured had sentimentality. A sketch of the Mona Lisa, signed by Leonardo Da Vinci himself. An eagle lectern sat at the end of a hall. It was familiar, though it took him a moment to realize why, when he noticed the burn scars on the wings.

"Oh, Crowley. You went back there for it?" He asked no one in particular.

It was from the church that the demon had bombed to rescue him from a bunch of Nazi's. There were many other artifacts among the apartment. Then he remembered back at the bar when he had come across Crowley sitting in a bar trying to get drunk. He had taken a random book from his bookshop to remember him, as a souvenir to remember him. Yes, this apartment would be HIS souvenir then, of Crowley. He sat in the opulent throne in the center of the room and cried.

It was daylight by the time Aziraphale had managed to settle down enough. Crowley would want him to move on, wouldn't he? He needed a distraction. He noticed the green water mister sitting on the desk, and remembered that the demon had plants. And a lot of them. He grabbed the bottle and went to the greenhouse area of the flat and started to mist at them. The 'angel' noted that they all trembled as he approached them, looking over them. Right, he remembered that his friend liked to yell at his plants, though he did not understand why.

"I'm sorry my dears, but I won't be yelling at you today. I can't bring myself to act like that, not that I even have a reason to." Aziraphale cleared the lump in his throat. He gently brushed a finger over a leaf that had a dingy spot. "I'm sure Crowley would yell at you for something like this, I remember once accidentally happening upon him doing that. But I'm not like that. I'm... soft. Or I used to be. I don't even know what I can even call myself now."

Aziraphale finished watering the luxurious green plants and headed to the bedroom. There was so much here and yet, now the apartment seemed massive. After being in hell for just the short period, he now understood Crowley's claustrophobia among large crowds. He continued with his tour and noted that the bathroom was rather massive, a large Jacuzzi tub in the center and a full sized mirror on the wall. Granted when he saw his reflection he felt a glimmer of hope before he remembered. It was now HIS reflection. He decided he probably shouldn't return to this room for some time. If ever.

It was late in the afternoon when Aziraphale decided to take a walk and actually take a look at his bookshop. The pain he had previously when he was told it was burned down, well... that was a tiny blip on the radar now! Before he started the walk to his shop, he ran a hand gently over the Bentley. The demon never got to see his car did he? So many miss opportunities aren't there. He let out a harsh breath before moving on towards his destination.

The no longer angel looked around at his restored bookshop. Sure enough every book was in its place, nothing out of the ordinary. Except for some young adult novel series he was certain he never had. Must have been added to his collection by Adam, how nice of the boy. The only thing out of the ordinary that he could see really was the lack of dust. There was nary a speck of it among the old books. He wouldn't fault the no-longer-anti-Christ for that though. He ran a hand over his shelf of prophecies, his most prized books in all of his collection, thinking of how he had been, once he had Agnes Nutter's book. It seemed so long ago now, when it was really just a few days. This certainly had been the longest week the two of them had in 6000 years, hadn't it? Aziraphale frowned at himself. Why had he pushed back so hard? Why did he try to fight it?

"You're an old fool, aren't you?" He muttered under his breath, still not entirely used to hearing Crowley's voice from his lips.

"Excuse me, are you open yet?" A voice called from the front door of the shop, bringing him out of his thoughts. He turned to see an elderly woman standing there; one of his regulars.

"Oh, no I'm sorry. I don't think so." He said, clearing his voice.

"Oh? That's too bad. Is Mr. Fell in?" She tilted her head upwards, barely coming up to his elbows. Her question seemed to cause a sharp pain in his chest.

"I... no, he won't be." He swallowed the growing lump in his throat.

The old woman frowned. "No? That's a shame. Is he ill?"

Aziraphale shook his head. "I'm afraid not, no. I, he has..."

He couldn't bring himself to say the words, but the older woman seemed to understand immediately. She placed a hand on his arm.

"Oh, oh dear, I'm sorry for your loss." She said it so soft. He nodded in thanks. "Were you close?"

"Yes, very."

She nodded in understanding. "I know how you feel. I felt the same when I lost those who I consider close. You never realize what you have until you lose them. Mr. Fell was beloved by the community, he will be missed."

"I... he was?" Her words caught the angel off guard.

"Oh yes, everyone in Soho knows of him. Such a kind gentleman."

Aziraphale always did try to be kind, but he also thought he would at least have some reputation in the neighborhood. "Even though he rarely lets his books be sold?"

The woman nodded with a smile. "Oh yes. I come here every week and he let you read anything on the shelves. Not many bookshops let you do that."

Her words had a genuine feel to them. His mood felt just slightly better that there were humans that would miss him. He rarely ever got involved with humanity, but he couldn't help getting involved sometimes. It certainly helped even just a little bit.

"Thank you for telling me that..." He hesitated, feeling bad for not knowing one of his regular's name.

"Mary," She supplied helpfully, giving him a warm smile. For some reason he had the strangest sense of de ja vu, but shook it off. "I suppose I'll leave you be, dearie. I hope you can look up and smile some time and remember the good things about the one you love. And I'm sure you will see each other again."

Aziraphale watched as the elderly patron walked down the street and rounded the corner, her words ringing in his ears. Even though he still felt melancholy, something in him felt even just a little bit better. He went inside, locking the door behind him.

...

Aziraphale tried to pass the time as easily as possible. Being an immortal being, time doesn't always mean the same as it did to humans. Doing so alone however wasn't always easy. But he made do with what he could. Reading was actually quite difficult with the snake-like eyes. They didn't see like his eyes had, and reading was, at first, quite tiring. He understood now why Crowley hadn't been big on books. He gave up for the night and decided to try reorganizing yet again. He noticed that the candles from his ritual were still sitting on the ground, around the circle. He wished that it were possible to contact Her. But it would be moot at this point. He knew only Metatron would be the one to answer, and how would a "demon" know this sacred ritual. It would just end up putting him in danger. Still, if he couldn't talk to God in the traditional sense, he'd at least try in a metaphorical way.

After putting away the candles and ensuring the door was locked, he found himself sitting within the circle. It had been quite some time since he actually prayed, something he felt bad about. He hadn't even actually prayed during the 'last week' as he had hoped to resolve everything on his own. How foolish. He didn't doubt that She would hear his prayers. His understanding is that she hears all, just doesn't answer all. The only thing he truly wished for was for a chance to tell Crowley how he felt. For a chance to let the demon know how much their friendship meant to him and that he was sorry he didn't trust him sooner. He would give nearly anything to hear his voice again. In spite of everything, the angel did feel better after that and decided he might do it more often.

He found himself doing this more often than not, and it certainly helped him through a large hard part of the whole time.

After some time, Aziraphale decided he needed a change of scenery. It had been a couple of months since the failed apocalypse so the angel-in-demon's clothing decided to pop over to Tadfield to check up on the residents there. See how Adam was doing and all.

The visit was short however as the angel had forgotten human children attend school during the fall seasons. The boy seemed perfectly normal, although very perceptive. He could tell right away that Aziraphale was in the wrong body, and asked why. He hadn't really known the best way to voice it. It still hurt. He wondered if it ever wouldn't? Adam seemed to understand however and mentioned something about how his mum had felt when someone close to her had passed away. For an eleven year old ex-son of Satan, he was quite human. Aziraphale was glad.

One of the habits that Aziraphale had picked up over time, since eating was no longer as enjoyable in this form, was sleeping. He certainly could see why Crowley enjoyed it so much. And it helped time pass. The only problem that the angel saw with it was that eventually he started dreaming. He never really had much of an imagination beforehand, not really seeing the need for it. But now, perhaps it was a side effect of being in a demon corporation, he started having dreams. Often of the same thing, seeing Crowley, reliving parts of their long history. They made him both happy and sad. Especially considering how every one of them ended pretty much the same way, he would wake up right before he had the chance to tell him what he wanted. How had the demon managed to cope with dreams?

Aziraphale bounced between his book shop and the flat in Mayfair as the months went on. It was now mid-December, and snow was just starting to fall. He found the cold much less tolerable in his current corporation. It wasn't completely unbearable as he was used to coldness, but Crowley's body seemed to be cold blooded. Must be the snake tendencies. He had to wear an extra thick coat, even thicker than the worn long coat he missed. He couldn't quite bring himself to outright change his look. He certainly needed change however, at least very minor, more so than the subtle tartan under his collar. This certainly explained why he had rarely seen his friend in the winter months. Poor dear must have spent the entire time in his flat.

The angel in disguise made his way to St James, tying the tartan grey scarf around his neck. It was a bit of a walk in the current weather yes, but he still hadn't figured how to drive the Bentley. He took good care of it, but it was out of gas and he honestly was just terrified of doing something WRONG to damage it. He wished Crowley had the chance to actually see the car. He was so heartbroken when it blew up in Tadfield.

When he arrived at the park, he noticed there was not too many people there that day. Humans weren't too keen on cold weather it seemed. The ducks floated idly on the water which had not yet frozen. Aziraphale smiled sadly at the memory of Crowley occasionally accidentally drowning ducks before saving them at the last moment. He found their usual bench, and miracled it dry. He watched a family of ducks in the water, wishing he had brought some bread to feed them.

"Hello again, dearie." He turned around and saw the elderly woman from his shop many months ago standing nearby.

"Oh! Hello again, Madam." He greeted with a smile. He gestured to the seat next to him, inviting her to sit down.

"How have you been?" She sat down and took out a small paper bag from her coat pocket, passing it to him.

"Oh, thank you." He took it and saw that within was broken up bits of bread. "I've been... ok."

"That's good. Still think of him though? Mr Fell?"

Aziraphale let out a soft breath. "Every day." He admitted, voice feeling thick.

They sat in a quiet silence for a few moments. "Out of curiosity, dear, what would you give if you had the chance to see him again?"

The not-quite angel was startled by the elderly human's question. He looked at his hands, thinking of the times his own and Crowley's had idly touched. How they held hands the night before That Night, when they had changed forms. "Anything."

The human, Mary if Aziraphale's memory served correctly, seemed surprised. "Anything?"

"Well, nearly anything I suppose." Aziraphale gave a soft laugh. He wasn't entirely sure if he would Do That to see Crowley. Surely the demon would be quite cross if he were to fall for him, but... he very well felt like he would nearly do that just to hear his voice with his own ears, and NOT from what was his current mouth. It had helped before, when he started having dreams, to pretend that Crowley was near. But now, he wanted the real thing.

"You have something you hold above your love?" Mary probed, curiosity filled her voice. "Even if that one thing were the only thing that would bring him back?"

Aziraphale looked out at the swimming ducks, marveling at how they swam in the cold. "I... I am not entirely sure. I want to say yes. But..."

"You have a big heart. You have such kindness and love that rivals many, I can see that. You're the kind of person who would give away a holy sword just to keep a family warm, even at your own risk."

"Yes." It took the angel a full minute to catch what the woman had said, and when he did, he felt his heart almost stop. "I... ah... well..." He honestly had no idea what to say. He cleared his throat and fiddled his hands a moment. He felt absolutely helpless. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you know about that."

The woman chuckled softly. "I've known since the day I asked you about it, Aziraphale."

"Oh. Ah..." Aziraphale found himself still unable to speak a clearly. He peaked through the sides of the dark glasses he had gotten used to wear. He clenched his hands in his lap. "I know I shouldn't have lied about it but... I... oh dear..."

"Relax, I'm not upset about it. Not anymore at least." She pat him on the knee. He felt a rush of warmth run through him, it almost made him dizzy.

He clutched his left hand to the seat of the bench they shared, and held his forehead with his right. When his vision cleared he opened his eyes and took notice of his right hand. He saw his ring, the angel wings tied to his soul. It was visible again. That's when he realized the whole of his outfit. It was the same clothes that he had worn for the past two hundred years. How... it was HIS corporation. The one that had been destroyed when... He looked over at the seemingly normal human woman. She smiled at him patiently.

"Well you couldn't very well be sharing the same body now, could you? Wouldn't want you to blow up."

He was about to ask what she meant when it hit him, much harder than Hastur's crowbar. He felt something he had been close to losing back in August.

"You mean... Crowley is..." He pointed to the direction of his dear friend's flat. She nodded.

"Go on then, Aziraphale. Don't miss out on this opportunity. I do apologize for taking so long answering your prayer. I was answering one that was much stronger than yours was."

He was about to ask what she meant about that, but decided against it. "Oh... oh thank you! I... yes. Good day, Lord."

Aziraphale was not one who liked to run. His corporation was quite out of shape, but he couldn't quite help that. Right now, however, he would run for miles non-stop if it got him to Crowley faster. He would even bust out his wings and FLY if it mattered, not caring that humans would see them. Even then, that's how fast it felt he ran right at that moment. He rushed up the stairs to the top floor and caused the door to burst open much harder than he intended, and made a beeline to the bedroom where he saw a sight for sore eyes, his dear friend sitting up looking around in a bit of a panic at the noise. Their eyes met for just a moment before the angel practically pounced the demon.

"Ooof! Oh, h'lo angel." Crowley was a bit shocked, to say the least, to find himself in his bed, in his body, and with his friend wrapped rather snug around his torso. "Squeezing me a bit tight there."

"Shhh. Just let me hear your heart for a minute."

Crowley understood, atleast somewhat, considering how he had done the same thing when they got to his apartment the day after the apocalypse. He gently pat the angel's shoulder. "Angel, could you please tell me what exactly is going on? Because I'm rather lost."

Aziraphale suddenly sat up, kneeling on the floor next to the bed. He had a far away look in his eyes. "Crowley, my dear, this may seem like an odd request, but considering I have had this very dream many times, that is to say not that I am casting doubt on ANYTHING," He said that last bit a bit loud, as if to make sure certain it would be heard. "But I don't think I could stand it if this were a dream too. Could you please, tell me something that only you would know, and not something I could easily imagine.

Imagine? Aziraphale doesn't really have much of an imagination as far as he was aware. "Since when have you dreamed? Since when have you started sleeping?" The demon was quite confused, and even though he was no longer being squeezed by him, he couldn't bring himself to take his hand off the angel's shoulder.

Aziraphale shrugged. "I don't know, about a month or so ago."

"A month..." The realization started dawning on Crowley. "Aziraphale, how long ago was Armageddon?"

Aziraphale shrugged, eyes downcast. "Almost four months ago."

Four months!? That news caught Crowley very off guard. He was missing something, and before he could get his answer the angel needed one from him. He swallowed, mouth feeling rather dry. "Right. Something that only I would know that you wouldn't easily imagine." Aziraphale nodded. The demon took a breath that he felt he needed, despite not really needing it. And thought for a moment. This might as well happen, telling this story. Admitting something he hadn't wanted to admit for so long when they were on opposite sides of a impending war. Well, considering they had no sides anymore, why the hell not?.

"Alright. 'member the fight we had in 1862? When I asked you for holy water?"

Aziraphale nodded. So far so good, he hated the thought of that fight. He had, at the time, thought that their long term friendship had been ruined by the tiff.

"I was... so angry at how you had seen our friendship. It hurt angel, it really did. And at the time I wanted to use it as an excuse to stop caring. To just give up and be a proper demon. But I couldn't. Because even though you hadn't seen our friendship as anything more than fraternizing, I couldn't force myself to stop caring." Crowley stared off at the memory. Aziraphale wanted to interject but held his tongue. "I decided to drink my entire stores of alcohol and spend a great deal of the time drunk. Guess I passed out at some point; took a long nap. Woke up about seventy years later cuz I had to use the restroom. Body processed the immense amount of alcohol at that point. Turned on the radio to find England was in the middle of a war with Germany and immediately went looking for you." Aziraphale had wondered what had happened to the demon, guess that answered that. The story wasn't done yet though. "Wasn't going to take any chances, after what happened with the Hundred-Year war." Both of them shuddered at the memory of that; that's for another time though. "Decided to get involved with the Military Intelligence. Put myself in the thick of things, why not? If I hadn't I'd have never known about the foolish book seller who tried to deal with Nazi's." He squeezed the angel's shoulder. "When I saw you in that church, at the time I couldn't bring myself to be mad anymore."

Aziraphale nodded. It had been wonderful to see Crowley again back in 1941. After so long, he was truly grateful that the demon had been there for him yet again.

"Saving your books was my way of saying that I'd wanted to go back to being friends." The angel sighed, sitting on the bed next to Crowley. "So, have I proven enough that I'm not a dream?"

Aziraphale let out a soft laugh. "Yes, my dear. I... had no idea, I just... It's been so long. And when Death told me..."

"Angel, please. Tell me what, and I can only assume this is the correct direction, in HEAVEN's name is going on? The last thing I remember is sitting tied to a chair in heaven and that bastard Uriel slicing me with their flaming sword. Next thing I know I'm waking up in my bed, in my body, with you trying to crush my ribs." Crowley was completely baffled by the turn of events, not that he wasn't against being alive nor in his own body again. He ran a hand through his hair and paused taking in effect at the state of it. It was about shoulder length currently and the curls rather unkempt. "What have you done to my hair?"

"Oh, sorry dear. Not much I'm afraid. I could not get your curls to behave like you do. Though to be perfectly honest, I have missed your ringlet curls and I just could not bring myself to cut them off, so call it a bit of self indulgence if you wish." Aziraphale gave him a meek smile. Crowley shook his head, but wasn't mad. He shook the curls loose from each other to get them to behave better. "As to your other question, there's something I really must tell you. Crowley, our friendship really was the most important thing to me, even more than my bookshop. When I lost you, I was absolutely devastated about it. I felt partly to blame, that if perhaps I had listened to you sooner and gone off with you, maybe what happened with heaven and hell wouldn't have happened."

"Ah, nnng, I don't really blame you for your reaction, angel. I figured you had your reasons, and I was just panicking at that moment. It was a tense moment for the both of us. 'Sides, it turned out alright in the end didn't it?"

Aziraphale shook his head. "It's not just that. I understand how you felt when I was discorporated. Not knowing what happened, losing the one you..." He trailed off, becoming quite very nervous. He twitched his hands awkwardly. He took a steeling breath and looked into Crowley's eyes. "Crowley, I have to tell you. I love...YOUR EYES!"

Of all the thing's for the angel to say, that was the last thing that Crowley ever expected. He nearly fell over in shock. Blinking owlishly, he rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh. um...well... thank you angel. I love your eyes too?"

Aziraphale blinked momentarily realizing what just happened. "Oh, no dear that's not what I meant! It's just that..., your eyes are different. They're not snakey!"

The demon looked confused for a moment. "What in somebody's name are you talking about, angel?"

"See for yourself!" Aziraphale pointed to the bathroom with the full-sized mirror. Crowley tossed off the blanket and rushed into the bathroom, wondering what he was going on about.

The light turned on, on its own and he stared into his reflection, looking close at his eyes. Sure enough they were certainly no longer snake like. In fact they weren't even yellow. They were more of a honey golden color. And normal in shape. Gone was the slitted pupil. How in the world had that happened? There should be no reason for his eyes to be that color, certainly not since that was the color-

"Crowley... your snake..." Aziraphale interjected his train of thought about his eyes, and was pointing to the side of his face that was facing away from his reflection.

His snake? He turned his head In the other direction and stumbled back. Gone was his brand, the one that had been there since the sulfur pit. In its place was... something entirely different from a blackened snake. He stumbled away from the mirror, reaching out for the angel.

"Angel, could you kindly help me back to the bed, I seem to have forgotten how to use my feet."

The pair sat on the edge of the bed, the mirror still reflecting the bathroom light into the bedroom. How long they sat there neither could really tell, but it was more than just a few minutes.

"Angel. Tell me... what, what does it look like to you?" Crowley stared at his reflection from his vantage point. Oddly enough the way his hair curled and his dark clothes, he looked fairly similar to how he looked back thousands of years before the birth of Christ.

"I would say, similar to a shooting star, I suppose. But that may not be the exact word I would use." The demon who wasn't quite sure if he was a demon anymore was acutely aware of how close Aziraphale was to him.

"A comet." Crowley said softly.

"Yes, that is a much better word for it. I wonder what it means?"

"'S my angel mark." Crowley's voice was even softer than it was previously.

"Your... but how can that be?" Aziraphale was astounded. Crowley shrugged.

"Your guess is as good as mine, angel. But suddenly considering I'm no longer dead, and my eyes aren't demony... the fact that my angel mark is where I was branded a traitor... I don't have any understanding of anything anymore." Crowley covered his face. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry. He definitely wanted to scream. "You, uh... still never really explained what all happened since our trials. I take it my execution went off much smoother than yours had."

"Oh, yes. I asked them for a rubber duck... and made the Archangel Michael miracle me a towel." Aziraphale couldn't help but giggle. He liked the little bit of vindication he got from the look on their face as they unwillingly handed him the bath towel. He smiled at how Crowley burst into laughter at the thought of what he had done.

They sat in silence again.

"As to your question, my dear. I really must tell you," Aziraphale took Crowley's hand. "Losing you was certainly the worst feeling I ever have felt, moreso when you told me m bookshop burned down. I felt so cold without you near. Especially considering that I never had the chance to tell you, exactly what you meant to me. At some point in the past 6000 years, my feelings for you may have slipped into more than just friendship. I've lived in a world without you, my dear, and I don't want to go back. I love you with all my heart, Crowley."

"Oh. I...ngk... um..." Crowley floundered for almost a whole minute at the angel's declaration. He shook his head trying to clear the hiccup in his mouth. "I... I feely the same way, angel. I certainly don't want to live in a world without you either. I mean, I thought I was doomed to that when you discorporated, yeah, but..." He sighed. "Aziraphale, you... you've been important to me for much longer than you'd expect."

"Oh?" The angel tilted his head. Crowley scrubbed a hand over his face, the other one still clasped in Aziraphale's.

"Ah... yeah. Probably since Eden I would guess, but took till Rome for me to realize what it was I was feeling. Tried hard to fight it, yeah. But that was the whole mind set of 'what kind of a demon loves an angel?' Failed miserably. Rome was when I gave up."

Aziraphale sat there in shock for a moment. "Oh, oh dear. I suppose I should have realize sooner then."

Crowley waved his hand at that. "Nah, 's all right in the end I guess. Was only 6000 years."

The angel nodded, smiling; finally getting that off his chest. They sat next to each other, enjoying their closeness to one another. The not-quite-demon looked at his reflection from his vantage point on the bed. He still didn't understand what was going on, how had he had been brought back. Why he didn't feel demony anymore. What in... God's name! had happened.

"Angel... I'm still quite confused. Any chance you could shed some light on things for me?"

"Right. Ah, it certainly is quite a story, my dear." Aziraphale gave him a run down of what happened during the months since the Armageddon that never was, and how he tried to just live because he had figured that's what Crowley would have wanted. He wasn't wrong. From the sound of it at least, neither forces of heaven or hell came near him, which was good. He was glad. "Then just today I met the same woman who came to my shop at the park and... oh... I wonder if she's still there?"

"Who's still where?" Crowley was trying to keep up with the angel's train of thought.

"St James's park. I met, well what could only be the Almighty there. She gave me back my body and told me that you were here."

"Wait, GOD?" Crowley didn't think he could get more shocked, and yet the angel is always full of surprises.

"We should go there and see. At least I think that would be a good idea, don't you my dear?" Aziraphale stood up and fidgeted with his bowtie, something he certainly missed doing. Crowley thought for just a moment before nodding.

In the past Crowley always hated the winter months, they made him so sluggish that he did anything to avoid going out in the cold. Now though he was quite pleasantly surprised that it was tolerable. Almost quite pleasant. When they left the building, there was something that made him stop dead in his tracks. The sight of his Bentley, sitting across the street. There was a light dusting of snow covering it, but it looked otherwise immaculate. He walked almost unsurely, like it could be just a dream, which given everything else that had happened today it could very well be. But it was just as Aziraphale had told him before they were captured by their head offices, not a single scratch. He ran a hand over it softly, brushing the frost off the hood.

"It's like it just came off the factory floor." He muttered softly.

"Ah, yes. I've kept it in good condition. Could never figure how to get it to drive, it's apparently out of gas. Was quite worried I would damage it. So I just kept it in tip-top condition."

"Thank you, angel." Crowley opened the door and sat in the driver seat.

Everything looked exactly as it was before he drove it through the infernal ring of fire. Well, except for the fact that the odometer read zero. Yes, he had lost track of exactly how many miles he had driven his precious car, and it had turned over at least half a dozen times in the seventy years, but it definitely was not at zero when he arrived at Tadfield. He had to see, had to be sure. He gripped the steering wheel and gave a thought, a push of will, and the car started right up, roaring to life. He gave a smile, and a joyous laugh. It was perfect. Though there was one other difference. The music playing from the cd player was decidedly not Mozart's _I'm in love with my car. _It was _Eine Kleine nacht Music_. Crowley stared for almost a full minute at the radio. He actually had not expected anything but Queen to play from the radio. The anti-Christ boy must not have realized when he reset things. He shrugged, now was not the time to wonder if the car still had the quirk of turning everything into Best of Queen. They DID have more pressing matters.

"Get in angel." He said, closing his door. Aziraphale got into his usual spot in the passenger seat, and they drove off to the park.

The drive was quite nice, and slow for once. Crowley had never really driven in snow, so he wanted to be sure. He also wasn't entirely sure if he could miracle away any and all danger as usual, considering he was certain he was no longer a demon. He didn't know what he was, so he didn't want to risk any harm to either of them. He parked the car, and they headed towards their usual spot in the park. He marveled at how quiet and nice things looked covered in white frost. But nothing beat the sight of Aziraphale sitting next to him on the bench.

"Are you sure she's going to be here?"

Aziraphale nodded. "Fairly sure. She was here this morning, and, well, call it a hunch really."

They sat there in silence watching the snow fall; Crowley amazed at the beauty of it all. Shame he usually huddled out under the heat lamps in his bathroom for winter, or in hell for when it got real bad. Was really the only reason he would purposefully spend any amount of time down there. It was actually still quite cold, but compared to frigid joints and sluggishness that came being part snake, this was just sitting in front of an a/c in comparison. It also seemed that colors were much more vibrant than they had been with his new/original eyes; even though his sunglasses, which he still found himself wearing, possibly out of habit. He looked over at Aziraphale, taking in everything about him. He was certainly grateful that no one ever bothered the angel while he was gone.

"You're welcome." A voice behind them startled Crowley from his wondering thoughts. They both turned to see an elderly woman, the same one from before that currently was hosting a being of great power. She gave a warm smile, that seemed to warm the area around them.

"It is you." Crowley said in awe. He was struck dumb in shock. He honestly didn't know what to say, so he went with the simplest thing. "I, erm, well... I don't know how to thank you. F...for everything, especially Aziraphale."

The angel looked over at his companion in confusion.

"His was the prayer I had to answer before I could answer yours. His last thought was in keeping you safe. It was loud and passionate enough, that it reached me bypassing Metatron all together. Since then I decided to look into the behavior of certain angels. You shouldn't have to worry, they won't be bothering either of you." She gave a mischievous grin, and the pair knew not to ask what she had meant by that.

Crowley took his glasses off to look at the almighty clearly. He wanted to understand what was going on, but wasn't entirely sure how to voice it. The last time he asked a question it got him kicked out of heaven straight into a pool of boiling sulfur.

"I... I don't entirely understand what's happened to me, Lord. I... I'm not a demon anymore, am I?"

She shook her head. "You are not, Crowley. I've seen what you've been doing for the past 6000 years, and even in your exile you still had some tiny bit of faith. Plus, sacrificing yourself for another is certainly not a demonic thing to do, so I decided to change that. You are indeed an angel again."

Crowley looked confused. "But... I thought I was-"

She cut him off by raising her hand, giving him a stern look. "This is not Forgiveness. It's a second chance. Do not make me regret giving it to you."

His golden eyes wide, he shook his head. "I swear I won't!" He looked over at Aziraphale, who had joy in his blue eyes. "Lord, if you don't mind me asking... I don't entirely feel the same as I did. Granted it has been 6000 years, but I just am curious to know, am I...?" he trailed off

"You can never be an Archangel." She told them; Crowley nodded. "You are now a Guardian angel. Even as a demon, you were far better than any of my other Guardians. You can take a wild guess who your charge is now."

The Guardian angel felt absolutely giddy. Sure, it would be an easy guess who his charge is, he felt the other angel come close, taking his hand.

"I must be quite honest, I don't think any other angel has ever kept their corporation intact for as long as you have, Aziraphale. You two certainly are meant for each other. And if I have any say in it, no one from either heaven OR hell will get in your way.

The two looked at each other in shock. Aziraphale gave a happy grin, Crowley's favorite kind. The new angel returned it, feeling the happiest he's ever felt in 6000 years. They turned back to thank the Almighty, only to find out she had vanished. It was just as well, something she would certainly do, no surprise there.

"Well, my dear. What do you want to do now." Aziraphale looked into Crowley's golden eyes.

The ex-demon thought a moment. "How about we grab some lunch. I'd like to see how crepes taste like now."

They walked off, nearly hand in hand and headed towards the Bentley. It certainly was a happy ending. Just like I promised.


	2. Word of Warning

Randomly decided to continue this with a few vignettes, So far I've only written 2 but there might be more

...

"Are you sure he will come this way?" Crowley asked, hands in his pockets, watching the milling humans in the park.

"Yes, I am quite certain. Even after the failure of an apocalypse, he still runs this pathway once a week. Something about keeping his 'temple in top running condition'" The angel frowned. He wondered what his dear friend had in mind for the archangel. They had only just been reunited not even a month ago. "Are you sure this is a good one, my dear?"

"Relax angel, I only want to greet a fellow angel. Actually meet a co-worker in my own body." Crowley smiled widely, in an unsettling manner, still wearing glasses that hid his now golden eyes. "I promise I won't hurt him. Much."

"Dear!" Aziraphale admonished; the ex-demon gave a sheepish grin, causing the other angel to shake his hand.

It had been almost a month, since his personal nightmare ended. He had spent, nearly 6 months alone, essentially stuck within Crowley's body, after the demon's soul in his, had been unintentionally extinguished by a heavenly holy fire. Their plan should have gone off without a hitch, but Uriel was more vindictive than he had expected, cutting Aziraphale's corporation when they were going to attempt to 'make an example of a traitor'. Crowley's execution went exactly as planned. Now, they were together again, Crowley was no longer a demon. He was now a guardian angel, granted this by the Almighty herself, for always being there to protect Aziraphale, and never actually truly losing faith.

They took their time enjoying each other again, enjoying the peace they had. To Crowley, no time had been lost, but Aziraphale, it had been so long, and had taken a lot of time to be able to stand being away from each other. They spent most of their time together, either in Crowley's flat, the new angel trying to reassert his dominance over his plants, or at the bookshop.

After some time Crowley realized that once a week, for about an hour, he had sensed another angel in London. When he asked Aziraphale about it, the principality admitted to knowing that the archangel Gabriel did a weekly jog around a local park. He managed to keep secret how the archangel had taunted him about the state his own corporation was. (Although Crowley could tell there was something the other angel had been keeping from him, but that would be something to be touched on at a later time.)

It wasn't too long till they both sensed the archangel appear in the park. Crowley disguised both of their auras, so Gabriel wouldn't sense them immediately. They stood on the path, and waited. The red-haired angel could barely contain his excitement, fidgeting with his grey jacket. He could not quite shake his 6000 years of black fashion over night, but greys went well with the red shirt he now wore, and it was not too far from his original aesthetic. He just hoped he could keep his promise to not actually harm the other angel. He ran a hand through his long, curly, red hair

They watched as the archangel did his morning jog through the park, and stood ready to catch him off guard. When he passed by them, Aziraphale took his cue.

"Good morning, Gabriel." The angel gave one of the cheekiest smiles the ex-demon had seen, about as cheeky as the one he gave at Tadfield airbase.

"Aziraphale." Gabriel nodded back cordially, right before immediately losing his balance, tripping over his own feet and falling face first onto the pavement. He quickly rolled around and looked in horror at Aziraphale and Crowley standing on the pathway. "Aziraphale! But you-! You're dead!"

The angel, who had started to rush to the fallen archangel's aid, before Crowley had stopped him, gave a small shrug. "I believe the humans have a quaint saying. 'The news of my death had been greatly exaggerated.' As you can see, Gabriel. I'm not dead."

The archangel felt quite nervous, wondering what kind of game this had to be. He grimaced, thinking quick, but before he could act on anyone of them, Crowley stepped in front of him, kneeling down to get to his eye level, albeit his eyes were hidden behind his signature sunglasses.

"Look, I'm giving you one warning. Stay away from Aziraphale. Whatever beef you and the other archangels have against Aziraphale, you need to let it go." The guardian angel's voice was hard. He was done with whatever bull heaven had with his angel.

"And why in heaven's name should I listen to what you have to say, demon?" Gabriel's purple eyes were full of hatred.

"Because, _archangel fucking Gabriel_," Crowley whipped off his glasses revealing his golden eyes, equally full of hatred for the so-called angel in front of him. "I'm his guardian angel. And if you try that shit you pulled six months ago with attempting to destroy him because he refused to play your game, there's not a place in heaven or hell that you can hide from me."

"You... but you can't be a guardian angel! You're a demon!"

"Can. Am. Was." Crowley rose from his crouch, looking down at the archangel wondering how an angel could be filled with such malice. It rolled off him in waves. He wondered if he still had the negative emotion empathy he had as a demon? He gave the angel one final look, now filled with pity, before putting his glasses back on. "Do me a favor, pass the word to Lord Beelzebub, too, and find a new place to do your calisthenics. Soho is off limits to you and anyone from heaven for the time being." He stuck his elbow out, giving Aziraphale a pleasant smile. "Come on angel, It's nearly lunch time."

"Oh! Yes, I do believe it is, my dear. There's a new restaurant I've been itching to try." Aziraphale turned to Gabriel who was still sitting dumbfounded on the ground, and waved. "Have a nice day, Gabriel. God Bless you."

The Archangel could do nothing more but wave back, mutely.


	3. First snowfall

Came up with this one because it was it was snowing where I live and I had the idea that Crowley would love to experience the snow

...

It seemed like a normal day, or rather evening if you will, when Aziraphale woke up to the bed being empty. For the longest time he couldn't see why his dearest Crowley enjoyed sleeping, until there was a time when time was dragging on unbearably slow. He hadn't been able to stand being alone when he thought the most important person in his life had ceased being. Now that was a long past nightmare. (Although sometimes that nightmare happens without prompting, but his now guardian angel did anything and everything to banish those dreams away.

Aziraphale grabbed his bathrobe and went searching the bookshop for the other angel, to which he had soon found the ex-demon outside. In the snow. Crowley stood silently on the corner staring at the park down the street, seemingly lost in thought.

"Crowley? What on earth are you doing out here? It's freezing!" Aziraphale bundled his bathrobe close against the falling snow.

"Oh, sorry angel. Did I worry you?"

"Only a little, my dear. But I sensed you nearby so I wasn't too worried. Are you ok?" The principality looked over at the guardian, watching in wonder as the red hair stood out starkly against the soft white snow.

"Yeah. M'fine." Crowley's voice cracked.

"Are you crying?" Now Aziraphale was worried.

"No, I- ngk." The ex-demon's voice caught on the lie. He gave an embarrassed grin, and rubbed at the tears on his cheek. "I... hnn... I just... I've never seen it before." he gave a tearfilled look of wonder at the other angel.

"It?" It took a moment for the blue-eyed angel to realize what he had meant. "Oh! You mean snow. You've never seen it?"

Crowley shook his head. "No. The cold made it difficult to do much as a snake. Could barely move." the red head looked back at the night sky, watching the white flakes drift softly down. "I used to hate the winter, it was something that was kept from me. I would have to keep the heat blasting on high all the time."

Aziraphale nodded in understanding. "Did you try going to warmer locations for the winter time?"

Crowley let out a soft laugh. "Like I was going to go anywhere far from you, angel. Nah, I usually just spent the entire time in my flat, mostly asleep cuz the cold would always make me lethargic. Now though? I had no idea that snow could be so beautiful. So quiet." He brushed another tear that leaked from his golden eyes.

"Yes, it certainly is." The blond angel slipped his hand into his dear friend's and balked at how cold it was. "Crowley! Your hands are like ice!"

Crowley blinked for a moment, "They are?"

"Just how long have you been out here!?"

The guardian angel shrugged, making a sheepish sound of confusion. "Dunno, probably an hour or so? Why?"

Aziraphale shook his head, bundling his robe close against him, then fixed the other being with a stern glare. "You get back in that bookshop right now!" He pointed back to the red building behind them. "We may be angels, but our corporations are still human, and they can get ill. I can't have my guardian angel laid out with the death of cold!"

Said guardian angel gave a sheepish grin and his charge. "Now who's the guardian angel?" He gave a large grin, one that was always such a nice sight to see on his face; Aziraphale loved seeing him such at ease. They both walked towards the building, Crowley now realizing just how cold he had gotten. "So just how do you plan we warm up, angel?"

The principality opened the front door with a wave of his hand, "Perhaps some hot cocoa in front of a warm fire."

"Oh? And perhaps wrapped under a thick blanket?" Crowley wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"That goes without saying, my dear. It would be a very effective and quick way to warm up, if I should say so."

"You get the drinks angel, I'll ready the fire." It was certainly going to be a very nice winter, the first one the no-longer-demon can actually enjoy, and the first of many.


End file.
